2.5 Days in Paris

I only made time for two full days in Paris. Crazy, right? I think it’s even crazier that I almost skipped the stop altogether. When I set out on this trip, I made the decision to look for places I could immerse myself in the country’s culture without feeling too much like a tourist. So Paris didn’t seem very appealing to me despite the hype surrounding it. I know now I would’ve missed out. I know now that Paris is one of those places that just sticks with you. And all I can think now is, “I can’t wait to go back.” 

Getting Lost With The Lost Generation 

Before my first full day in Paris, I decided to do some prep work and list the addresses to the old stomping grounds of Hemingway and company. I had to skip a few, but again, all the more reason to come back.



My first stop was unplanned. I was trying to find the first address I had written down but failed, so I stopped at a random bakery for macaroons. Can you think of a better pit stop? 

One was chocolate and the other was passion fruit-chocolate. I can’t decide which one I liked better. The chocolate one will satisfy any chocoholic like myself but the passion fruit mix was so different; the flavors just exploded together. This was actually my first time having macaroons. Now, I can say I lost my macaroon-virginity in Paris.

After about 10 minutes of figuring out where I needed to turn, I found my first stop on my very short, self-guided, self-organized, Lost Generation tour. In the 1920’s, this place was where Zelda Fitzgerald, wife to author F. Scott Fitzgerald, checked in after she had a melt down. It might’ve been after one of their party binges. The Fitzgeralds knew how to have fun but seemed to use that fun to escape some dark times, from what I’ve read. 

Another random stop…I was headed in the right direction when I noticed a creperie stand. I immediately beelined for it and ordered a Nutella and banana crepe.

There are many orders to choose from, ranging from light and sweet to filling and salty.  

After taking a few bites, I reluctantly saved the rest for my destination: Jardin de Luxembourg. 

Here, I sat on a bench, devoured my crepe and read a few chapters from Jefferey Eugenides’, “The Marriage Plot.” I glanced up to see the Eiffel Tower peeking out from behind the trees. That’s about the time when I thought to myself, “Who am I?” “Is this real life?” “Is this my life?”

It would’ve been more fitting to have been reading Hemingway, since he frequented this park. But instead, I wrote a bit in my journal, hoping to tap into the literary talent that sat there almost a century ago.

And this is one of the two apartments Hemingway lived in while in Paris. 

Apartment 5e to be exact.

And last but not least, Shakespeare and Company. The bookstore to the right and the cafe to the left.

It should be noted that you’re not allowed to take pictures inside. Ironically, I did not read the sign until after.

And that wraps up day one. I decided to run a few personal errands before attending one of Jim Haynes’ Sunday Dinners, and made my way back to his atelier. 

A Moveable Feast

My day 2 had me conflicted at first. “Should I go to the Louvre? Notre Dame? I definitely need a cliché picture by the Eiffel Tower. But I have no time for all of that.” 

I ended up taking some advice from a new friend, who suggested I spend my day absorbing Paris rather than waiting in line.

So I made my trek to the tower, an hour long walk with no distractions. But fortunately, Paris has too many beautiful distractions. 

I saw plenty on my walk. I heard different languages being spoken. I paid particular attention to when French was spoken to feel the essence of Paris (even though there are many expats and English speakers). I welcomed the cold wind as it stung my cheeks red. I admired the statues, the buildings, the churches. I absorbed it all.

Next, I stopped by Shakespeare and Co. once again to pick up a book for my sister as a gift, stamp of authenticity included.

A few minutes later, I met up with the same friend, who shared such advice, to see if I could check out one of her classes. But unlike UT, there are guards at each entrance who check your bag and school ID. My lack of French was enough of a giveaway to get turned away.

Not such a loss though because I ended up having time to pick up a berry tart on the way home. 

Was it enough of Paris for me? Absolutely not. I hope to see the Mona Lisa at the Louvre one day. I hope to step inside Notre Dame and imagine Quasimodo sneaking Esmeralda out. I hope to go to one of the flea markets and cool shops my new friends told me about. I hope I see these new friends again, if not in Paris, then elsewhere. It was definitely not enough. But it was enough to stick with me and make me excited to return. And, that seems like time well-spent to me.
“If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.” –Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast